The day I stopped ignoring homeless people

I stepped off my bus Monday morning with a mission. The day before my church distributed gift packages for parishioners to give to homeless people.

I felt as if my church had entrusted me with a special task. The large Ziplock bag contained packs of raisins, crackers, band-aids, as well as a knit hat and gloves among other items.

My commute by bus takes me from West Seattle to Belltown and then I walk to The Seattle Times’ office in South Lake Union. I see at least a handful of people who look like they could use some help each day near my stop by Third Avenue and Lenora Street. I figured it wouldn’t be hard to find a worthy recipient.

People sleeping on the ground in Pioneer Square. (Bettina Hansen / The Seattle Times)

The mission seemed simple enough: find a needy-looking person and hand over the package. Soon after of arriving at my stop, I saw an elderly woman with a walker and a cart.

I had seen her near that corner before. I remembered her because her feet seemed to be wrapped in various layers and covered with plastic bags.

I asked her if she would like a gift bag and she said, “Sure.” Then we exchanged a “Happy Holidays,” and “Merry Christmas.” I set off for my office.

The act was simple, but during my commute I felt anxious about not finding a homeless person or worse mistaking someone for homeless if they weren’t. Would someone find it offensive? Strangers ask for money all the time, but would I make someone feel uncomfortable or patronized if approached them? I pondered the bigger picture: how much can a stuffed Ziplock bag help vs. larger needs like landing a job or stable housing?

The experience made me think about my own attitudes about the less fortunate and homeless people I encounter on a daily basis. I tend to set up barriers between myself and strangers by thinking about the larger policy and economic issues vs. the faces I see on the street.

One of the things I love about cities is the opportunity to engage with other people, but I rarely interact with anyone who’s homeless.

Most of the time I say “no” when strangers ask for money because I question where the cash is going (and the fact that I rarely carry cash). I wonder if the person will use it for drugs or alcohol or if they might rob me if I take out my wallet. That’s why I was excited to offer a package of supplies instead.